TAMURA OBSERVED the grief etched on Tinoue's face, a familiar sight that mirrored the anguish she had witnessed in countless others during her time as a slave within Misuki's compound.

"What's troubling you, son?" she asked gently, sensing his pain.

Tinoue met her gaze, finding an unexpected solace in her comforting presence. "My little sister is missing," he confessed, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. What's her name? I used to care for all the children in the kitchen, so perhaps I can remember her," Tamura offered, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort.

A glimmer of hope ignited in Tinoue's eyes. "Amane. She's a little blonde girl with blue eyes."

Recognition dawned on Tamura's face, accompanied by a flood of memories. "Oh, Amane! She was such a sweet child, always with a smile on her face and eager to lend a hand in the kitchen. Are you Tinoue? She spoke of you often, with such confidence that you would come to rescue her."

Tinoue's heart constricted at the mention of his sister's unwavering belief in him. Despite his own doubts and insecurities, Amane had never lost faith in him. Tears welled up in his eyes once more.

“My little girl,” Tinoue’s thoughts echoed with worry. “Where are you? What horrors have you endured?”

As the weight of uncertainty settled upon him, Tamura's urgent voice sliced through the air, snapping his attention back to the present. “Tinoue,” she said, her voice tinged with concern, “your sister was taken by the guards a few weeks ago. They led her away from the dining room, and she never returned.”

Tinoue's expression darkened as Tamura's words sank in. His mind raced back to Kasaki's earlier revelation about Misuki's potential dealings with dark forces. Could it be that Misuki offered his sister’s soul to Satan in his twisted game of power? With a surge of determination, Tinoue rose to his feet, the urgency propelling him forward in search of answers.

He found Kasaki engaged in conversation with Mikono, their voices hushed yet charged with purpose. “Kasaki,” Tinoue gasped, his breath still ragged from his frantic sprint. “It's my sister. An old lady who was a slave told me she disappeared weeks ago. The guards took her. I need to know if there's any chance she's still alive.”

Kasaki's gaze softened with understanding as he absorbed Tinoue's plea. “Mikono,” he turned to his comrade, his tone resolute, “can you make Misuki talk?”

A glint of determination flickered in Mikono's eyes as he flashed a confident smile. “I can certainly try,” he replied, his voice carrying the promise of swift action.

The trio made their way to a large warehouse where Misuki was confined, his figure thin and feeble from neglect. Bound and blindfolded, he struggled against his chains, sweat glistening on his brow.

"I need water," Misuki croaked, his voice strained. "My saliva keeps replenishing, but the dehydration is unbearable."

Mikono signaled to Kinsu, who swiftly fetched a glass of water. Approaching Misuki, Mikono dipped his finger into the water and let a single drop fall onto Misuki's forehead. Desperate, Misuki lapped at the moisture with his parched tongue, but it offered little relief to his agonizing thirst.

"Oh, you moron!" Misuki wailed, his voice laced with desperation. "Just a drop, please. My body feels like it's crumbling, then reviving with each pang of thirst. It's sheer agony!"

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Mikono rolled his eyes. "Quit your whining. And we haven't even started with the oven yet."

Misuki's voice filled with horror. "The oven? You can't be serious!"

"You can bet I am," Mikono replied, dousing Misuki's chest with the remaining water.

Misuki writhed in agony, his attempts to reach the water futile.

“Maybe we’re going too hard on him,” said Kasaki, winking at Mikono.

“No. We aren’t. This bastard deserves the worst of existences. He enslaved and tortured our people for years. Now you want to have mercy on him? Not a chance.”

“Well, I would have done exactly the same in his position. We have to understand.”

"Finally, someone with sense," Misuki chimed in. "Those who judge me have never tasted true power. It's intoxicating. The more you have the more you want. I was a hammer, and I struck. Simple as that. Now, a sip of water, please!"

"Should I give him a little, sir?" Mikono glanced at Kasaki, awaiting a response. Kasaki paused, relishing the opportunity to unsettle Misuki further.

"I don't know. He hasn't exactly been forthcoming. Maybe it's time for the oven," Kasaki mused aloud, watching Misuki's expression flicker with fear.

"What?! No! I'll cooperate, for God's sake. Don't put me in there. Just give me a taste of that water, please. I'll tell you everything," Misuki pleaded desperately.

Kasaki stepped forward, his tone firm. "Tell me exactly what pact you made with Satan."

Misuki's anger mixed with confusion. "You're the little boy whose father I killed. I remember your voice," he snarled.

Kasaki remained composed, removing the bandage from Misuki's face. "My father once spoke highly of you, Misuki. You were admired. But evil has corrupted you. What a shame," he lamented, motioning to Kinsu for a glass of water.

"Your father would have done the same, boy. Power is irresistible," Misuki retorted bitterly.

"We'll never know," Kasaki replied calmly, taking a deliberate sip of water, relishing the moment. Misuki's desperation grew palpable as he licked his parched lips, longing for just a taste.

"You want some?" Kasaki dangled the glass of water tantalizingly close to Misuki's face, only to retract it just out of reach.

"First, tell me about the pact you made with Satan and where Amane, the little blonde girl, is," Kasaki demanded, his tone firm.

Misuki scoffed, his expression twisted with contempt. "You foolish peasant! Why do you care? You can't undo it! You're all powerless, destined to watch me regain power while you wither away into old age."

"That's none of your business. Just answer me," Kasaki pressed, his patience wearing thin. "Or you'll find yourself in the oven, suffering a fate far worse than this dehydration. Imagine the agony of your cells constantly regenerating while being consumed by flames. My guess is that you'll experience a brief moment of consciousness after your dead cells regenerate, only to be engulfed in unbearable agony as the flames consume you once more, the torment never-ending.. What are your thoughts on that?"

Misuki looked around, as if he had the hope of being saved by one of his guards. But they were all already dead.

"Fine," he relented. "I sacrificed that blonde girl's soul to Satan."

"For what purpose?" Kasaki pressed.

"To obtain the #BG power spell," Misuki confessed.

"So, Amane's soul was a prerequisite for Satan to cast the kingdom under the #BG life points spell?" Kasaki clarified.

"Yes," Misuki confirmed.

"And when you found yourself surrounded and defeated by us, you summoned Satan again and offered him that pale kid's soul in exchange for immortality?" Kasaki continued.

"Yes, you're smart. That's precisely what happened," Misuki admitted.

"So, how do we reverse the spell?" Kasaki inquired. "And how do we retrieve Amane and the other child?"

Misuki shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Zizu was my advisor, but he was brutally killed by someone's," he gestured irritably towards Mikono. "So there's no way to know. But I think it's impossible."

Kasaki sighed. He now knew what had happened to Amane, but he didn’t know how to rescue her from Satan’s claws, so he was pretty much in the same place. He felt frustrated.

“Now, that water, please. I told you what you wanted to know.”

“Oh, right,” Kasaki made the motion to put the glass on Misuki’s lips but then he opened his hand. The glass fell to the floor and broke into pieces. He looked down at the broken glass and then he looked into Misuki’s eyes. “Sorry for my clumsiness,” he said.

“You fucking peasant, I swear I’ll make you pay for everything. I swear it!”, Misuki cried desperately.

“Mikono, take him to the oven. We don’t need him anymore,” Kasaki ordered, his tone resolute as he turned and ascended the stairs toward Misuki's office on the upper floor.